


emptiness & quiet conversation

by ferealities



Category: The Adventure Zone (Podcast)
Genre: Comfort, Drabble, Fluff, Friendship, Gen, Late Night Conversations, Nightmares
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-19
Updated: 2020-06-19
Packaged: 2021-03-03 20:08:17
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 696
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24801358
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ferealities/pseuds/ferealities
Summary: He walks the darkened passageways of the Starblaster, metal stealing the heat from his toes, and ends up at Lucretia’s door, knocking gently in a slow staccato rhythm. In the space between the bottom of the door and the floor, a warm glow pokes out teasingly. It’s the only sign of waking life he can make out in the empty corridors.-Magnus visits Lucretia late at night.
Relationships: Magnus Burnsides & The Director | Lucretia, No Romantic Relationship(s)
Comments: 1
Kudos: 10





	emptiness & quiet conversation

**Author's Note:**

> this is suuuuuuper short but i thought I might as well throw it out there. I like the idea of Magnus and Lucretia doing that cat thing where they just appreciate each others presence.

Magnus wakes from a dream of black figures. Of loss and grief and an old wound newly picked at. Magnus wakes from a dream of hunger and ash, and before he knows what he’s doing he’s propping himself up on sleep-addled limbs. He’s climbing out of his bed with a resolve he has yet to register and approaching his door. He’s exiting his room without thinking, without cause, like a spell had come over him. 

He walks the darkened passageways of the Starblaster, metal stealing the heat from his toes, and ends up at Lucretia’s door, knocking gently in a slow staccato rhythm. In the space between the bottom of the door and the floor, a warm glow pokes out teasingly. It’s the only sign of waking life he can make out in the empty corridors. The door swings open slowly and cautiously. 

“Do you… need something, Magnus?”

He’s not quite sure what to say, so he points lamely at Fisher’s tank. She hums almost inaudibly, and he lets himself in. 

Magnus would feel bad about waking her, but he’s pretty sure she was already up. Lucretia is prone to excessively late nights, finding herself caught up in her writing as she is tonight. Lighting her steady scribbles is Fisher’s bell, casting her room in a low violet hue. The light is just bright enough for writing, she’s informed him, but not enough to disturb sleep, like a little moon in a tank. It’s calming. It feels like home.

Magnus folds his legs up and leans against the bed frame on the floor. He took the liberty of spreading one of her blankets across the floor to separate himself from the cold metal. Once he’s settled in, he looks up at Fisher’s tank. Lucretia’s room is never completely silent with the void fish in it. It sings and hums periodically, a few little chirps as the lights fire within it. Magnus loves it. The silence in his room is almost crushing, especially on planets like these, empty of the sounds of life.

He thinks that’s what’s getting to him. There are trees, but they’re dark with char, encased in porous black rock as most of the planet is. They had found a village, all wood huts and sharpened sticks, but the only evidence of the people who built it is blackened bones. Nothing grows here but ash and rock. The only noise comes from collapsing trees.

Part of him worries that that’s what his home looks like now. Just an empty husk.

They sit in silence for a good while before either of them speak. Lucretia is hunched over a sturdy notebook, pages warped and thickened with all kinds of ink and damage and added scraps. The scratch of her pen along the grit of the paper is quick and short, flicking in little bursts of inspiration. 

“What are you writing about?”

She pauses and looks over the page. “The plane,” she answers. 

“It’s empty, Lucretia. There’s nothing to write about.” Magnus feels a pang of guilt when the words leave him sounding much sharper than he intended, but it doesn’t seem to bother her.

“It’s poignant, though, isn’t it?” She tucks the pen clip into the binding, but keeps the book perched open on her lap. “It’s not always about the quests and the fights and whatnot.”

Magnus closes his eyes and lets his head loll onto the bed frame with a solid clunk. “Doesn’t sound like an exciting read, though.”

“Maybe not.” She stares down at her scrawled words blankly. “But… don’t you feel it?”

“What?” 

“The plane. Doesn't it make you feel weird?”

It does. It’s hung thick over his mind since they got here, hot and heavy like a summer fog. A twist in his gut that only got tighter the longer they stayed. He feels…weird. 

“I thought it was something arcane when we got here, but it’s not.” She looks out of her small window listfully. “It’s just how we’re built, I suppose. We don’t like the quiet.” 

“Yeah,” he agrees. 

Magnus falls asleep to the steady strokes of Lucretia’s pen, and it’s the best sleep he’s had all year. 

**Author's Note:**

> If you like Lucretia chilling with characters late at night check out this fic l wrote about Lucretia and Angus Also Hanging Out At Night   
> https://archiveofourown.org/works/24111730  
> Maybe it’ll be a series if I want to write about her talking to Another character. Don’t really know how I fell into this niche but I’m in it now


End file.
